Cathedral Cities of Italy

by W. W. Collins

In the south aisle, opposite to and corresponding with Il Santo's chapel, is one dedicated to S. Felix, which is fronted by a good screen decorated with an effective fish-scale pattern of Verona marble. It contains a good altar, placed high above a flight of steps, and some interesting fourteenth-century frescoes. A thick coating of paint quite spoils the well-carved Gothic stalls, and it is to be hoped that when the scheme of decoration reaches this chapel these fine stalls will be scraped and then left in their pristine state. In another chapel are the tombs of Gattamelata and his son; these and two monuments designed by Sanmicheli on two of the piers of the nave are the best in the church.

The presbytery is cut off from the nave by a low balustrade, in the centre of which, rising in a bold sweep, is a very fine bronze gate. The High Altar, impressively placed at the top of some steps, has eight splendid panels containing bas-reliefs by Donatello. The master was also responsible for the fine group of the Madonna and Saints, as well as the huge crucifix, which are placed above it. The magnificent bronze candelabrum, which stands to the left of the altar, is twelve feet high. Its maker, Andrea Riccio, spent ten years over the work before he considered it fit to leave his studio. The figures at the base are symbolical of Music, History, Destiny, and Astrology, forming with those above, a paschal candlestick that is one of the finest pieces of bronze work in any church in the country. The sanctuary beyond the apse was an addition of the year 1693, and occupies the most eastern dome seen in the illustration. Great gilded sliding doors hide a wonderful example of fifteenth-century goldsmith's work, a casket with Il Santo's tongue inside, and many other sacred relics, as well as Gattamelata's marshal's baton. The great doors are surrounded by work of the late seventeenth century, an example of the bad taste and very low ebb ecclesiastical art had sunk to at that period. Cherubs and nude female figures playing stringed instruments—angels apparently—circle round S. Antonio, who is borne aloft by other nudes. The extravagance of the whole thing is a jarring note amongst much that is extremely fine.

The monks of the brotherhood of S. Antonio still inhabit the conventual buildings attached to the church, and their dark-robed figures pass silently to and fro in the cloistered courts of the monastery. The walls of these three courts are lined with fine tombs and memorial slabs, and it was from one of these cloisters the illustration was taken. A great magnolia tree grows on the well-kept grass which covers the ground like green velvet. No sound from the outside world penetrated this sequestered nook. The only note to break the silence was the drowsy hum from a voice at prayer in one of the little green-shuttered rooms above, and the occasional twittering of a canary in its cage. One worked undisturbed at those domes and towers which compose so well and seem to reach up to the very heavens.

Padua's university was founded in 1221 by the Emperor Frederick II. on the site of the Inn of the Ox, and is still called il Bò. Its handsome courtyard, attributed to Palladio, is adorned with armorial bearings of distinguished alumni. At the head of the great staircase is a statue to Elena Piscopia, a poetess, musician, and fluent linguist; she received a doctor's degree and died a spinster in 1684. The anatomical theatre is the oldest in Europe. Among other famous men connected with il Bò the names of Baldus, who taught law, and Galileo, who expounded mathematics, must be mentioned.

Padua also possesses the oldest Botanical Gardens in Europe, which were instituted by the Venetian Senate in 1543. Many of the exotics which grow now all over Europe were first established here, brought from the East by Venetian traders, and the botanist can spend many interesting hours in this well cared for and shady retreat.

A vast building with a remarkable history occupies one whole side of the market square. A much-travelled architect and engineer, Fra Giovanni, visited Padua in the fourteenth century, bringing with him drawings of an Indian palace; these so pleased the Padovanese that he was asked to construct a roof to their great hall, the three divisions of which had been destroyed by fire. Fra Giovanni set to work, and his vaulted wooden ceiling, one of the largest in Europe, stands covering the principal chamber of the Palazzo della Ragione, though the roof above was renewed in 1857. The paintings on the walls of this magnificent room have by degrees replaced a series of frescoes by Giotto. They are mostly mystical and symbolical, the best among them being those representing Justice and Prudence. The wooden horse which stands in the hall is supposed to have been the model for Donatello's bronze horse on which Gattamelata is seated in the famous equestrian statue outside S. Antonio. The fine loggia on the ground floor of the palazzo is of later date than the original parts of the building, which were designed by Pietro Cozzo and constructed in the years 1172 to 1219. In a street not far off is another beautiful building, the early-Renaissance Loggia del Consiglio, with its fine stairway and open arcade. In front of this is an antique column with the Lion of S. Mark, the sign that the city at one time belonged to the Republic of Venice. Many other houses in this quaint old town are of great interest, and the windings of its streams as they meander past rose-covered walls and low roofs, with perhaps a tapering campanile or a dome towering above, afford a rare field for endeavours with the pencil and brush.

VENICE

VENICE, which has no counterpart in the world, is a city of all others in which one can linger on in a dream taking no count of time. The days run into weeks, these spread themselves into months, and it becomes more and more difficult to tear oneself away from the entrancing "Mistress of the Seas," from her Cathedral and all her other marvellous buildings; from her seductive gondolas and silent canals; from her picture galleries, and alas! from the fragrant coffee we sip idling away the time under the colonnade outside Florian's in the Piazza.

Well, the seductive cup is drained and while our cigarette is alight let us look round. Directly opposite to us, on the north side of this grand square, stretches the long colonnade of the Procuratie Vecchie, built early in the sixteenth century as a habitation for the procurators of S. Mark. It is one of the best examples of early Renaissance architecture in Italy; nobler, simpler than the Procuratie Nuove where we sit, which was built in the last quarter of the same century. An arcaded building in the classical style erected by Napoleon in 1810 connects the western extremities of the two Procuratie. It is a pity that this great Renaissance Piazza should be completed by an inferior bit of modern work instead of such a brilliant gem of the Renaissance style as Sansovino's Libreria Vecchia—at present invisible to us round the corner. To this building, which faces the Doge's Palace, no higher tribute could be given than to say that its perfection fairly distracts the admiration of the onlooker from the wonderful Gothic pile before it.